Chapter 2: The Transmigrator isn't a pushover!
"But you just ate half an hour ago, young master, and it is still quite early—" she started to explain, her brow furrowing in a frown as she spoke, but the words died in her throat the second she met Spencer's gaze.
The coldness radiating from him was unlike anything she had ever experienced from the timid boy he used to be. It was a freezing, absolute stare that made the blood in her veins feel like slush.
"Are you saying that you are the one who gets to decide when this young master is hungry or not?!" Spencer barked, the suddenness of his movement catching her off guard as he sprang up from his bed.
He stormed over to her, his expression twisted into a mask of livid fury that seemed to fill the entire bedroom.
"N-No! Of course not," she stammered, taking a reflexive step back as the sheer intensity of his presence bore down on her.
"Oh, I understand now," Spencer said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss that was far more terrifying than his shouting.
A cold sneer played on his handsome features as he loomed over her. "You're planning on starving me to death, so that's it. You plan on killing a member of the Luminous household?—"
His words were cut short by a sudden, desperate movement from Annabel. Driven by a flash of genuine panic at the gravity of his accusation, an accusation that could very well lead to her execution if anyone believed it, she hurriedly reached out and used her hand to cover his mouth.
"Young master, please don't say such a thing," she whispered, her expression deeply stressed and her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Beneath the surface of her fear, however, a spark of her usual contempt remained.
' Just what has gotten into this useless whelp today?!' she thought to herself, her mind racing to find some explanation for this bizarre behavior.
She expected him to pull away in his usual submissive fashion, perhaps even apologize for his outburst once he realized he had overstepped.
Smack!
The sound of a crisp, hot slap rang out through the large bedroom, echoing off the high ceilings and ornate furniture.
The force of the blow was enough to jerk Annabel's head to the side, leaving the room in a ringing silence that felt even more deafening than the slap itself.
"Y-Young master... you?" Annabel gasped, her hand flying up to cradle her searing cheek.
She looked at him with a gaze of utter disbelief, her eyes watering from the stinging pain that was already beginning to bloom into a bright red mark on her skin.
"You dare put your filthy mits on me..." Spencer didn't shout this time. Instead, the level of coldness in his voice was so profound and absolute that it chilled Annabel to her very core.
It was the voice of a man who viewed her as nothing more than an annoying insect, and for the first time in her life, she realized that the "useless whelp" she had bullied for years was truly gone.
******
Moments later, the usual quiet of the estate was replaced by a grim, heavy atmosphere as a crowd gathered within the back courtyard of the Luminous estate.
The sun was climbing higher in the sky, but it offered no warmth to the servants who had been summoned to witness the spectacle.
Before the eyes of countless servants, a single figure was tied shamefully to a thick wooden stump in the center of the clearing.
Annabel's hair was disheveled, and her face was pale, save for the dark bruise beginning to form on her cheek.
PA!
"Mmmgh!!" A muffled cry escaped her lips as the first blow landed.
PA!
"Mmmgh!!!" The sound of the leather hitting flesh was wet and sickening.
PA!
"Mmmgh!!!"
Every few seconds, the repetitive sound of the whip echoed through the courtyard.
The servants watched in a horrified, collective silence as Annabel was whipped by a knight of the household, a man whose expression remained as stoic and unmoving as stone.
The back of her maid's dress had long since been torn to shreds by the repeated strikes, offering no resistance to the whip as it landed on her bare skin each time.
Her cries of anguish were followed by a constant stream of tears that fell down her cheeks, drenching her dress along with the cold sweat of pain.
The surrounding servants shivered each time the ruthless whip came down across her back.
Some of their expressions were filled with genuine, primal fear, realizing that the hierarchy they thought they understood had been violently overturned.
Some found that they couldn't watch the brutality anymore and quietly slipped away, unable to stomach the sight of their colleague being broken in front of them.
Meanwhile, as the punishment continued below, a lone figure watched everything from the quiet comfort of their chambers.
Spencer stood by his window, his silhouette framed by the expensive drapes as he looked out at the scene in the courtyard.
The first crack of the whip made him flinch. But he composed himself before anyone could see, his jaw tightened.
' It has to be this way... If I don't start out like this, I can't change the damage that has already been done. ' He repeated it to himself like a mantra, trying to drown out the voice that whispered he was becoming exactly what he claimed to hate.
After saying that for awhile, his nerves calmed down, he then shifted his focus to the torrent of notifications that constantly filled his peripheral vision, flashing in bright, ethereal text.
[Ding: Annabel has gifted you +0.1 ST]
[Ding: Annabel has gifted you +0.1 ST]
[Ding: Annabel has gifted you +0.1 ST]
[Ding: Annabel has gifted you +0.1 ST]
[Ding: Annabel has gifted you +0.1 ST]
[Ding: Annabel has gifted you +0.1 ST]
.....
The notifications continued to pile up one after another, like a steady stream flowing into him with every strike of the whip. He watched the numbers climb in silence.
In order to live peacefully and securely in this new, dangerous life, he came to the conclusion that some sacrifices would have to be made to establish his dominance.
Unfortunately for her, she had been the first to cross the line, and she was now serving as the foundation for his ascent.
Letting out a slow, he
avy sigh that fogged the glass of the window for a brief second, he finally turned away from the spectacle and walked back into the shadows of his room.